


In my mind she tastes like bitter almonds

by VulpixSinistre



Series: Unusual Contessa Ships [1]
Category: H.I.V.E. Series - Mark Walden
Genre: F/F, Rated T just to be safe. Nothin weird just romancey thoughts, Robot shark lady hopelessly pines over scary hypnosis woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29582373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpixSinistre/pseuds/VulpixSinistre
Summary: It was always nighttime when they met; what would Maria look like in the daytime, in a spotlight of sun instead of dim star shine or harsh fluorescent lighting? Would Madam Mortis still feel the same way? She believed so. She did not think her affections were the kind to wane in the light of day.
Relationships: Contessa Maria Sinistre/Madam Mortis, One Sided - Relationship
Series: Unusual Contessa Ships [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2173347
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	In my mind she tastes like bitter almonds

Madam Mortis was known among the GLOVE council as a nervous woman, tightly wound, with her hair perpetually pulled back to the point where it appeared painful, and a pinched, frightened face. Her ideas were fair enough, and her operation was a well oiled machine, but she was a quiet soul who tended to fade into the background. Obviously she had power, and strength. You don’t get to become a member of the ruling council by being a nobody. But, looking at some of the others, she understood how she paled in comparison. 

She was grateful for this, one night. The lack of attention on her meant that no one noticed the very moment her heart was set alight. 

What was the meeting for? At this point she could no longer remember. Other GLOVE members were invited to attend, for some reason or another. Mortis could only recall, in perfect clarity, when _that woman_ stepped out of the elevator. Swooped out, more like it, in a swish of skirts and a menacing aura. Such a commanding presence with her calculating stare, and height amplified by stiletto heels and pure art for hair. 

Mortis had heard the Contessa Sinistre before, yet this was the first time she had laid eyes in her. At least Mortis didn’t gasp - she was struck speechless - but she knew her face betrayed every emotion, every thought, as they flashed through her mind. 

Love, infatuation, admiration. Which was it, or was it all at once.

She felt breathless the whole length of the meeting, unable to compose herself while this beauty sat before her. She barely heard a word that was spoken, and thankfully no one inquired about anything from her. That perk of being drab again. 

A strange feeling indeed, her thoughts towards this woman. Strange but natural, frightening yet joyful, dangerous and welcoming. 

* * *

Madam Mortis could hardly wait for the next meeting, and the next, and so on. She had taken to wearing flats, hoping to find herself standing next to the Contessa for even a second to marvel further at how tall and elegant the teacher was. 

The Contessa- no, Maria was her name. Maria, _Maria_ , oh how the name falls from one’s lips like a prayer. Dizzy at the thought of it, she hadn’t even noticed when the very object of her affections stepped right up beside her. 

“Good evening,” lilted the most musical voice she had ever had the pleasure of hearing. 

“Good eve- oh! Good evening.” Madam Mortis lost her breath for a second. 

“Do you have a moment to talk?” _For you, as many moments as you wish_. “I wanted to hear more about the idea you proposed, the robots, is that correct?”

“The cybernetic animals, yes. It is still in the planning and research stages, but…” she hesitated. Surely this was a dream. It couldn’t be heaven, no afterlife she would be sent to would be this wonderful. 

Yet there Maria stood, hands clasped before her, appearing intrigued. “Please, go on. I would very much like to hear.”

Perhaps heaven was real after all. 

* * *

“Fascinating.”

“You truly think so?” Mortis asked with a shyness unbecoming of a villainess of her status. 

“I do, yes. It’s poetic, in a way.” Maria absentmindedly ran her finger across the rim of her glass, sending a faint hum into the air. “The hunters becoming the hunted.”

“I am… very glad you like it.” Bubbling with excitement, actually. 

“What other animals will you model them after, besides sharks?”

Mortis gazed deeply into this woman’s cold slate gray eyes, still awed by every sharp frown and chiming laugh and loaded threat that emanated from her. “Something like a panther, perhaps. Something people are fascinated by even though it could kill them in three seconds flat.”

* * *

Mortis sat with her legs curled up on the chair, conserving heat in the dim laboratory. She scribbled out design after design for her new project, lit up with inspiration. 

Some animals, she knew, were brightly colored to alert prey that they were venomous. This seemed odd to her, in her mind it should be the darker colors that proved more dangerous. Although, if that were true, then she herself was very stupid prey indeed. 

* * *

“I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“Madam Mortis,” Madam Mortis answered, dazed. 

The Contessa tossed her head back and laughed, so musical a noise, an amused twinkle in her eye. “I know that, _Madame_ , I mean your first name. What is it?”

_Madame_ , how lovely that sounded. The shivers it sent down her spine. 

What was the question? Ah, her first name. Mortis told her. Maria repeated it. Mortis’s mind went blank on the next few minutes of conversation, still stuck on that moment. Her own name on repeat in this siren’s voice. 

* * *

Something interesting about Maria- one of _many_ interesting things about Maria - was the way none of her smiles matched her eyes. It was difficult to tell at times whether she was laughing at you or with you. 

* * *

She uncapped chapstick and rubbed it on pouted lips while Madam Mortis would look and turn away, back and forth, back and forth. 

With how close they were, Mortis could smell it from where she stood. Cherry, sickly sweet, like cough medicine, the cloying scent overpowering all other senses. Or, well, maybe that was caused by the woman applying it. 

Maria’s eyes drifted to her awestruck companion. 

“Ah! Sorry. I, hmm, I like cherry,” she tried to excuse her impolite staring. 

“Would you like a taste?” 

Morris’s heart just about stopped. “W-what?”

“I must warn you, I smoke, so it may seem a bit stale.” Maria explained calmly, capping the lid and rubbing her lips together.

“Well I… that is fine by me! But…” Her heart jumped into her throat. It had gotten much warmer all of a sudden. She was acutely aware of the crowded room, which dropped her next words to a low whisper. “But… right here?”

The older woman took a step closer. Reached out. 

And handed her the tube. 

Mortis could only stare at it blankly until her brain made the connection. “Yes. Yes! T-thank you.” 

An embarrassing misunderstanding, but although indirect, it was still almost a kiss, Mortis blushed through her rushing thoughts as she tenderly applied the chapstick. 

* * *

Madam Mortis could feel the other woman’s eyes drift along her scalp like a caress. 

“Your hair is always pulled back so tightly. That isn’t healthy for it.”

Boldly, she made a suggestion: “Why don’t you show me a better style?” That was how they ended up here, in her hotel room, with Maria undoing Mortis’s bun and both chuckling at the way her hair puffed out once freed. 

Mortis let her brush her hair, pin it up, and curl it. Or straighten it, maybe; she paid most of her attention to the reflection of Maria in the mirror. Her companion’s wine red mouth, contrasted with the dusty pink lipstick Mortis had applied to herself before the meeting, almost as an afterthought. 

It was so hard not to crush their mouths together and kiss her until their lips came away mixed rosey red. She wondered what it would taste like. How it would taste to kiss a venomous snake, to have the devil’s tongue in her own mouth. Heavenly. Joyfully unpleasant, she thought. Like frosting and arsenic. 

“Hello? Are you listening?”

Not really. She couldn’t help the drunken feel that took hold of her whenever they were together. 

* * *

They strolled onto the balcony where they could see the city’s skyline bathed in moonlight. It was always nighttime when they met; what would Maria look like in the daytime, in a spotlight of sun instead of dim star shine or harsh fluorescent lighting? Would Madam Mortis still feel the same way? She believed so. She did not think her affections were the kind to wane in the light of day. 

Maria leaned her back against the railing and held up a silver case and her thin cigarette holder. “Would you mind if I…?”

“Not at all,” Mortis answered. 

She plucked a cigarette from the case and looked at the holder for a moment, then shrugged and placed both it and the case back in her pockets. “Feeling a little dirty tonight,” she joked. 

Mortis squeaked in response, quick and high pitched, and felt heat color her cheeks. 

Apparently Maria didn’t care as much for appearances tonight, what with risking getting her fingers ashy and burnt. This delighted her nervous companion, who was pleased to see her relaxing, not playing up the uppity act. 

Mortis watched in reverence as the tall woman flicked the lighter on so smoothly, pinched the cigarette between her fingers and held it gracefully aloft, and pursed her blood red lips into a circle to blow the smoke out into the night. 

“Your cybernetic creature idea, what did the Council think?”

“Ah.” She was crestfallen at the memory but excited to talk with her. “I was shot down, as they say. Number One said it would be too suspicious if multiple shark attack incidents suddenly occurred.” 

They both nodded. What he says, goes. A universal truth. 

She pouted a bit. “The Council was rather rude about it, I think. They teased me about it afterwards. Grigori called me ‘Jaws’ when he left.”

This earned her a raised eyebrow and head tilted in confusion. “Why? Your face looks fine.”

She knew she was turning red again at the slightest, barest sign of a compliment. “It is a movie about shark attacks, I believe. I have not seen it myself. I don’t get out much.” She mentally berated herself, what a weak excuse, that movie had come out thirty years ago!

“I don’t get out much either,” Maria deadpanned. 

Mortis tittered over the joke, flighty little laughs and hand waves as if it were oh-so-clever. “Oh yes, yes, the school, how very amusing!” she fawned. “And you ah, like it there, I would assume?”

“Very much so.” Maria turned her head to watch the cars speed by in the distance and puffed thoughtfully. “The teaching can be fulfilling. Molding young minds into the best villains they can be. The passing on of knowledge makes one feel important, in a way.”

“The children, you like them?”

“No,” came the blunt response. 

Mortis giggled nervously again. “I am certain they must love you. Who wouldn’t? You must be magnificent as a teacher, oh I can only imagine how electric it must be when you lecture! Rousing speeches from such a brilliant mind; with you at HIVE, the students will be shining stars of GLOVE in no time!”

Maria clenched the cigarette between her teeth and grinned widely, genuinely. “Why, _Madame_ , you do flatter me!”

Mortis could have fainted on the spot. She wished she had a camera to capture this beautiful vision before her. No matter, it would have a permanent place in her memory. 

It took a minute for her to recover enough to carry on the conversation. “Have you ever thought of working your way to the Ruling Council? You would do spectacularly there with your…” _Your everything_. “...strengths.”

“Ruling, eh?” Another of those looks. Maria seemed to be thinking of a joke, a joke Mortis did not know if she was in on or not. “Yes, I suppose I’ve given some thought to moving up.”

“It would be an honor to work at your side,” she sighed. 

Maria stubbed out her cigarette out on the railing and leaned over to pat the thin woman’s hand tenderly. “Likewise.” She nodded goodbye, once again far too soon, and turned to leave. “By the way,” she added as she walked away, “don’t let that rejection get you down. You’ve had good ideas before, and you will again.”

“Wh- Ah yes, the sharks. Thank you. Thank you very much.”

Maria stood in the open doorway, one hand on the doorframe, and glanced over her shoulder with a playful wink. “Good night, _Madame_ Jaws.”

Mortis waited until the click of high heels had faded out of earshot to respond. “Good night, my love.”

* * *

Madame Mortis was a nervous, tightly wound woman with her hair half pinned up and curled and a dreamy, shy face. She was the person in the back of a photograph, blurred and almost unnoticeable. She was happy about this, as nobody noticed the proud and joyful expression she wore when the new headmistress of HIVE was announced. This also worked well for her when, upon news of the explosion a few days later, no one saw how her whole body seemed to crumble into despair. 


End file.
